Leaving Mitchell, we headed three hours west on I-90. Destination: Wall Drug. Once a humble pharmacy, Wall Drug made a name for itself in the 1930s by offering thirsty travelers free ice water; today it is a rambling, attraction-packed roadside marvel that takes up an entire block. It boasts the usual knickknacks, leather goods, t-shirts, a giant, saddle-wearing jackalope that Chris naturally had to sit on, a bookstore, donuts, a chapel and probably 47 rooms I missed. Kind of magical. And it still offers free ice water in little retro paper cones. Perfection!
Wall Drug sits just north of the Badlands, our first national park of the trip. The Badlands are truly surreal; you are driving through grassy prairie and all of a sudden it looks like you could be smack in the middle of the Arizona desert. Stark, lonely and lovely.
After the Badlands, we drove, at dusk, into Deadwood and the Black Hills. Driving into the Black Hills, the southwestern corner of South Dakota, was one of the most exciting drives of my life. I've never seen so many billboards for various attractions; the Black Hills certainly rival Branson or Buena Park for family to-dos and natural wonders. Of course, those two other cities hold plenty of good cards in their hands, but they don't hold the ace: Mount Rushmore. Or the tough town where Calamity Jane raised cain and Wild Bill Hickok famously met his end...
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